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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26624887">and I came back (for you)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/camelotsheart/pseuds/camelotsheart'>camelotsheart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Ghosts, Humor, I mean you can't prove me wrong, Kissing, M/M, Modern Era, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, also a bit of</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:49:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,026</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26624887</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/camelotsheart/pseuds/camelotsheart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Arthur heard the last words echoing in his ears before everything turned black, and <i>listened</i>?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen/Leon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>and I came back (for you)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Junemo10/gifts">Junemo10</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <em>Stay with me.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>It's such a simple request, one he would have answered with a scoff and <em>you're such a girl, Merlin</em> had the world not been fading at the same moment.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Stay with me.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He remembers it now as darkness sinks: a place away from the burdens of kingship, a farm, a brooch placed onto thin hands, the piece of a tattered jacket placed over an image of Camelot.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Because they are one and the same. Camelot is his home, and home is as much of a place as it is a person.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>This is what he wishes to the darkness: <em>take me home.</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>The darkness answers with light.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He is standing in mist. Camelot soars in the distance, white and proud against the plain skies. But he knows it is not his; this is the home of his mother, the home of Lancelot, the home Elyan; the dwellings of people that have said goodbye.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Stay with me.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He leaves the image of this kingdom behind, focusing on pieces of reality that seem to echo into nothingness.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>I failed?</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He remembers his kingdom, the one he has built with Merlin. The one he shares with Guinevere.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>I can't loose him! He's my friend!</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He calls Merlin's name into an unexisting horizon, praying to whatever forces that would answer a King's broken plea.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Arthur--</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Merlin."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Unintelligible words whisper into his surroundings, into his bones. He feels welcomed, somehow, like he's back in Merlin's embrace, saying <em>thank you</em>, wanting to say so much more but neither having time nor ability. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He turns and takes a step away from the castle behind him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>That is the moment white fades into colour, where mist turns into lake, and he watches his own funeral boat drift upon the waters of Avalon.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>***</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Merlin notices. Of course he would notice.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It's not as if Arthur doesn't stray closer every time Merlin wrecks himself in hopeless sobs. It's not as if he doesn't stay infront of Merlin's door each night (<em>I don't want you to feel that you're alone</em>) listening to every stifled scream drifting through thin wood. It's not as if Arthur doesn't enter Merlin's room that time Merlin wakes up to Arthur's name three times in one night and places his hands over Merlin's head.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Merlin stirs for a moment, and Arthur may have heard him whisper his name; a question. One he can't answer.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It's only after Merlin blows the horn of Cathbadh on Beltane, four months after Camlann, and finds no Arthur on the other side that he truly becomes suspicious.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You," says Merlin after drinking the spirit-seeing potion and chasing after his king through almost the entirety of the castle, which unfortunately ends up with him drenched in various different sauces and even more layers of hay, mud and dust, "are a complete <em>ass</em>."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm humbly touched by this reunion," Arthur replies flatly, trying to get out of the death grip of Merlin's magic (because that's just unfair. Surely <em>dying</em> would let him have some powers to trump other metaphysical forces. Apparently not.)</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You made me drop Eliza's banquet plates, trip into mud, fall into a haypile and lead me down to a dusty old broom cupboard, all after <em>dying</em>-"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Those last words are choked, as if saying them in and of itself is a curse. But Merlin is still walking towards him, and he thinks back to that time where Merlin was similarly dishelved and muddy, and they found each other after dreading the worst.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Merlin reaches forwards.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Arthur does the same.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>There are no laughs this time. No giddy joy of a terror averted.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>They stay in each other's arms for what could be eternity. Breathing, existing. The living and the dead merging into one.</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>***</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>After finding Arthur, Merlin makes it his life mission to figure out why Arthur has not moved on (Arthur can't tell him the real reason, of course, lest Merlin goes on a bout of guilt-ridden depression. How ironic is it that this time, it's Arthur carrying the secret). </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Merlin, I am <em>not</em> talking to Guinevere."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But it might help!" he retorts, folding his arms in exasperation. "Maybe you need some closure with her. You must have things you want to say. She's your wife--"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Not for long," Arthur cuts Merlin off with a wave of his hands. "And no I don't have a problem with that. Really, Merlin, you should know me better by now."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah? Because the last time she kissed someone you went straight to execution mode." He raises an eyebrow. "And I've happened to hear that Leon's luck is at a low point these days."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Arthur sniffs. "It's a test of strength."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You tripped his horse into a pond."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"A man needs to know how to swim."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"His chainmail was smothered in honey."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He should be thankful. It makes him sweeter."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I- you know what? Nevermind." Merlin sighs. "Look, Arthur. You talking to her won't make her doubt her engagement with Leon. You know she's stronger than that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I just don't want to drag her down," he whispers, because he never wanted anyone to know. Everyday, he doubts if he made the correct choice in coming back, because behind every glance Merlin gives him is a sadness born from guilt Arthur hasn't managed to extinguish, and he feels as if he is a vigil that prevents his friend from moving on.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>But they're both hard-headed, and by the afternoon he's in Guinevere's chambers having conversations that don't end till hours later.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I had a dream last night."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Arthur raises his brows, probably because he's been spending way too much time with Merlin, who is sometimes a mini-Gaius through and through. "Is this the part where I find out all of the closest people in my life have magic?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Guinevere chuckles. "No, but it was... something. I'm not sure how to put it." she says. "Do you remember our first date?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>It's not as if Arthur can forget one of the best days of his life (excluding, of course, the part where Guinevere was thrown into the dungeons). He tells her as such.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You told me about your dreams of leaving Camelot," she says. "And in my dream I saw you. You were... somewhere. Definitely not Camelot. You were travelling, I think... In a peculiar carriage. I wish I could describe it better." She shakes her head. "I saw you in an empty green field, then in the middle of buildings taller than the citadel's tower, then inside some sort of... container... up in the sky. It was all quite bizzare."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It does sound unusual."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But one thing never changed," she says, looking at him. "I think you can guess what that is."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Sometimes I dream of leaving Camelot.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Really? Where would you go?</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>I don't know. Somewhere where nobody knew who I was. I'd get some land and become a farmer.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>I can hardly see you toiling away in the fields all day.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Obviously, I'd take Merlin with me. He can do all the hard work.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Of course it's Merlin. It's always Merlin.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He loves you," says Guinevere matter-of-factly. "I don't know how I've never realised it before. Nobody mourned you as much as he did, and I think he's still mourning right now, even when you're here."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I love you too," he says, and Guinevere's face shimmers with a smile.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I know." She leans back into her chair. "I loved him too, you know. Even before I came to love you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And you love Leon."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I've loved - <em>love</em> - many people." She gives a gentle shrug. "The same way you used to love Morgana when you didn't know she was your sister."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Arthur let out an amused huff. "<em>With all my heart</em> is beginning to sound redundant."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Maybe hearts are meant to be shared," she says. "I'll never stop loving you, Arthur. You must know that. But you're going to return someday and I don't think I'll be there when you do. But Merlin will. You'll wait for each other like you waited for me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He sighs. "Are all my relationships always going to involve waiting?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Maybe waiting makes it more worthwhile."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>***</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Is it because of me?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Arthur stops in his tirade of comments about the knight's forms and turns to look at Merlin. They are watching the training session from an open alcove in one of the castle towers, just secluded enough that nobody would question Merlin talking to empty air.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>(By this point, Merlin doesn't need to drink the potion anymore to see Arthur. And it's strangely satisfying, the thought that his existence is for Merlin and Merlin only, just like Merlin's was <i>his</i> back when he was still alive.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Maybe it's like with that druid boy."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So I'm... possessing you?" The thought causes a disturbing flutter in his stomach.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Merlin coughs. "I don't know. Maybe?")</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Arthur doesn't answer, and that is answer enough.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Merlin lets out a small, shaky breath, and beneath the sun Arthur can easily see the tears that well up in the corners of his eyes. There may have been mumbles of <em>idiot</em>, <em>prat</em> and <em>stupid</em>, but Arthur is too worried about all the things that can go wrong if he retorts with a barb of his own.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>So instead he repeats the words he has said many times before: "My death isn't your fault."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>That only seems to wreck Merlin in more sobs, and Arthur belatedly accepts that he has never been good at consolation and puts a hand over Merlin's own.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Eventually, Merlin stops shaking and huffs out: "thank you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Except it doesn't sound like a <em>thank you</em>. It sounds a whole lot more like <em>I was born to serve you</em> and <em>I want you to always be you</em>. It feels like the gentle caress of a thumb on his cheeks, a voice saying <em>get some sleep</em>, and the firm weight of a body holding him like it would never let go.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It sounds a lot like another <em>thank you</em>.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Tell me," Arthur says, "tell me something you've never said to me before."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Because it's alright now, isn't it? There are no more secrets between them, no weight of crown and kingdom; just a destiny in a future that hasn't yet arrived.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>They look into each other's eyes for the longest moment, and Arthur wonders how he has never noticed what these stares truly meant. It feels like the warmth of a silent campfire, like sinking into an embrace, like a string that connects them through time and space. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>It feels like coming home.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But I've said it," says Merlin, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Many times before."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Arthur huffs a small laugh and brings their foreheads together. "Well, since you're too much of a baby to say it, <em>Mer</em>lin-"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And you're too much of a prat to do the same-"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Then I guess I'll have to do the work."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"<em>Finally</em> doing something useful-"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I love you," he says, and shuts Merlin up with a firm kiss.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>***</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Many years in the future, when they are the only pieces left of a world long gone, a king and a sorcerer will walk along a quiet park surrounded by buildings taller than the citadels of Camelot. A small girl, barely ten, will run up to them with a smile like sunlight and say:</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Are you King Arthur?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Her mother will bashfully apologise and eye the weird man wearing chainmail and cloak with slight amusement, but not before Merlin says with slightly shaky breath, "of course he is!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The girl will light up and bow to the king with stumbling grace, and Arthur will smile even brighter. He will laugh, cry, rub the girl's head and say, "I am King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot. What can I do for you, my lady?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I want to be a knight!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>In that park, Arthur will knight a small girl, the first person in this new world to see him for who he is; and that night, he and Merlin will hold each other tighter than ever before, because everything is finally real and true and <em>right.</em> And it will never change again.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
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